No Walking For Sammy: Hurt Sam and Caring Dean Oneshot
by sullendean
Summary: Sam is bitten by a werewolf and Dean cares for him. (no wincest)


Sam felt a huge, rugged tear at the flesh on his calf. He yowled and twisted his body to see what had bit him. He felt the slimy saliva and the trickle of blood on his leg. The werewolf that had bit him was scurrying away from Dean who was shooting at it. Sam felt the sting of the fresh wound on his leg. He winced and bent down to look at it. He pulled his blood-soaked pant leg up to see the damage that the wolf had done to his leg. There were teeth marks that ripped from his knee down to his ankle bone. Blood flooded from the top mostly and pooled in the crevices on his ankle and the underside of his leg. The wolf's sticky saliva coated the bottom half of the big tear of flesh. The wolf's teeth didn't only rip flesh though, it was clear that the muscle was torn up too.

"Sammy! Shit, Sammy." Dean sprinted up to him and bent down to examine Sam's maimed leg. He tightened his lips as he accidentally brushed his finger upon the mix of saliva and his little brother's blood. Dean quickly pulled his bandana out of his bag and tied it tightly to Sam's upper calf. Sam winced at the newfound pressure on his wound.

"Up, Sam. Can you get up? I can't carry you, damn it." Dean yelled worriedly, whimpering the last sentence. Sam didn't feel like replying, he was dizzy from the stinging pain and the loss of blood. He pulled his heavy upper body upright, but almost toppled over. Dean huffed and mumbled something incoherent, catching Sam and slinging his arm over his shoulder. Sam's weight slowed Dean down, but that didn't stop Dean from being determined to get his hurt brother to the impala.

"D'n. I got th's." Sam quietly murmurred. Sam lifted his heavy arm off of Dean's shoulders, stumbling and limping towards the impala with Dean walking at Sam's pace so that he could catch him if he fell.

Dean swung the passenger door open for Sam just in time, as Sam was about to fall over. Dean jumped in the car and drove the car as fast as he could to their run-down, old motel. He kept giving Sam worried glances, but Sam seemed very much alive. He had his eyes closed, but he kept making pained expressions and squeezing his eyes.'

Dean practically carried Sam into the motel. Surprisingly, the other guests didn't notice a huge, bloody guy who was being carried by an a lot smaller man. He flopped Sam as softly as he could into the bathtub. Dean turned on the warm water and grabbed a rag. He rubbed the rough material of the rag softly over the injured leg, trying to wipe up some of the blood. The bleeding was slowing, thankfully, but Dean was still worried. Sam bobbed his head and blinked his bleary eyes at his brother who was looking very bloody, but it wasn't Dean's blood, it was his. Sam's body jolted upright when he looked at all the blood on Dean and himself. His eyes flicked right towards the torn up calf. The blood was mostly gone, except for the small stream coming out and the middle of the cut and dripping down his foot.

"Hey, hey,take it easy. I got you. You'll be fine, Sammy." Dean coaxed Sam into relaxing, comfortingly putting a hand on Sam's tense shoulder. He settled down and leaned his back against the edge of the tub like he was when he had fainted. Dean ran water over the tear. The water stung ferociously. Sam winced and spazzed his leg. Dean pressed his lips together tightly and held Sam's leg down. He puckered his lips and sighed.

"Just a sec, Sam." Dean quickly jumped up and ran into the main room of their dusty, old motel room. He came back with a bottle of a whiskey.

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Dean mumbled as he held Sam's leg and pulled the cork out of the whiskey with his teeth. Sam grunted and he realized what Dean was going to do. He braced himself and gripped the edges of the tub tightly. He felt the burning liquid drip onto his cut. The whiskey started a fire in his flesh and muscle. He groaned as Dean poured it onto the top of the injury. Sam panted as the stinging fire died down.

"Sammy, I don't think you will be walking anytime soon."


End file.
